Tango

I've taken care of all my affairs. Well, except for one. And right now, I'm going to take care of it. I'm going to see Alicja and tell her, or rather, ask her... But more on that later. Oh, and it's a shame you can't see it - I'm driving my new cherry-red Toyota 4Runner. Alicja will love it. She's always liked off-road vehicles. Me too, actually. We liked similar things. We're similar in what we like. I once thought that our likes and dislikes weren't just two different things, but one shared preference. And I liked that statement.

Actually, I'd rather have a Jeep Grand Cherokee, but there weren't any for sale, and I found this Toyota at a dealership near the city center. It's only three years old and in very good condition. I could probably keep looking, but I was in a real hurry to start a new life. And I always imagined I'd start by buying myself a decent off-road vehicle... which I did yesterday. I'll spare you the detailed description of my new toy, because you're probably not interested. I'll show it all and explain it to Alicja. She'll definitely like it.

What do you mean, "I've got it all sorted out?" You know, I got divorced, raked in a ton of cash for a big contract. What am I saying? It was a huge contract! A cosmic one. If I hadn't been in the mood I often am lately, I wouldn't have even considered it. I did it with a lot of enthusiasm, and I succeeded. I only got 1.5 percent of it, but I still earned more in two weeks than I'd ever earned in a year. Although, in reality, I'd never earned little. With that contract, it was like this... Or not, that's a completely different story. Especially since I also quit my job. I planned at least a three-month vacation... with Alicja. I'm taking her with me to my beloved Norway.

My "divorced" may sound like it wasn't important. Well, it was. It was very important, very difficult, and very... I don't want to talk about it...

[...]

I remembered spending several evenings playing solitaire. I fell in love with Alicja like a kid.

I was sitting on the carpet one evening and playing solitaire. I shuffled the cards and asked the question: Will Alicja and I be together? I laid out the cards, and after a few minutes... the solitaire didn't work out.

"Okay, so I'm changing the rules. If two out of three come up, we'll be together someday..."

It didn't work.

"If I draw a heart, I can try again."

I drew the six of diamonds.

"If I draw a heart, I can try again, if I draw a diamond, I can try again for a heart..."

[...]

About three months ago, I had a chat with a swan. It might sound silly, but it was true. And I feel like that conversation really helped me a lot. One day, I was walking on the beach. The weather was exceptionally gloomy. The sky was covered with heavy, dark clouds. It wasn't raining, but it looked like it was about to. A cold wind was blowing. The chill seeped into my jacket. I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets. I walked aimlessly. I pondered my failing marriage, I missed Alice, I missed Alice terribly, I missed her... in short, I wasn't doing anything useful, just wallowing in self-pity. I also felt a lot of resentment towards myself for being such a weakling and incapable of making any concrete decisions.

I wrote a poem. I wrote it with a stick in the wet sand right by the seashore. I wrote the letters one by one. Each one was almost a meter high. The entire poem was about a hundred meters long. Then I returned and wrote it down with a pen on my hand. I had nothing to write on. I walked along the shore. Many of the letters had already been erased by the gently lapping waves. And the poem was this:

I'm waiting for something

I have no idea what it could be

Anything

Any answer to my shouted confession

Shouted with a pen onto a piece of paper

And hidden in a drawer

Carefully

Maybe...

I console myself

That perhaps

You are wise with sad wisdom

Reconciled with sad reconciliation

You will do nothing

To do no wrong

Somehow, that doesn't comfort me at all...

And then a swan clung to me. It crept close and squawked loudly. It flapped its wings and bobbed its stupid swan head left and right. It occurred to me that it simply wanted something to eat. I called out to two little boys who were digging through seashells washed up on the shore.

"Listen, would you like some cookies?

"

"I want to feed the swan. Run to the bakery on the corner and buy me a loaf of bread," I gave them some change, "and with the rest, buy yourselves some cookies.

" "Sir, my mom won't let me eat sweets." The little fat blond with glasses probably always listened to his mom. "Can I buy some gum?

" "Sure. Come on, run."

They ran. My friend the swan was shifting from paw to paw, watching me curiously, first with one eye, then with the other. I slowly extended my hand toward him. He backed away and began hissing menacingly.

"Okay, I won't come any closer if you don't want me to. "

We stared at each other intently for a moment.

"Because you see, man, I have a problem. We don't really know each other, and maybe I shouldn't tell you these things, but I need to talk to someone. "

The swan tilted his head to the left, as if curious.

"You see, I'm in love... And I'm married and have a little daughter. So... that's a bit of a problem for me."

The swan tilted his head to the other side.

"You see, because... my wife and I aren't doing well... it's bad... terrible. We're not compatible at all. You know how it is—we look in different directions. It's hard for me to explain it any other way. Let me give you an example. I was once

camping with a group of friends. We lived in the forest. We washed in the lake, cooked our own meals, and stuff like that. No civilization. And there was this girl. One night she came to me and..."

The swan seemed interested.

"No, nothing like that..." She asked if I wanted strawberries. And we sailed at night to the other side of the lake, about half a kilometer, in the dark... It was freezing cold. We ate strawberries because there was a strawberry field on the other side... and we came back. There wasn't even the slightest bit erotic about it, but it was amazing. Everyone was asleep, and we did something stupid, completely pointless, something crazy. We were looking in the same direction. And my wife...

...You know, after the wedding, we went to Norway. To Oslo. We drove all over Sweden, and I showed her all sorts of cool things. You know, windmills, picturesque inns. When I showed her something, she'd look up from her book for a moment. Can you imagine—we went on our honeymoon, and she spent the whole way reading women's magazines! So she'd look up from her book for a moment and look around with unseeing eyes. They were really pretty, she'd drop them and go back to reading. I'm not sure she even knew what I was showing her. Eventually, I gave up.

...And in Oslo...there's this high mountain—Holmenkollen—with a ski jump on it. The view is incredible. You can see for a dozen or so kilometers in every direction. Of course, when the weather's nice...

"Sir, we brought you some bread," I thanked the kids (the fat blond was holding a pack of gum in his hand). I broke off a large piece of bread and crumbled it, tossing it to the swan. He looked very pleased. He caught the pieces I threw in the air and gobbled them up greedily.

"What was I talking about? Oh, and I was trying to convince my wife to go there at night. It's an incredible view! You can see the entire city. Neon lights in the center. Lights from the windows of tiny houses, thousands of them scattered around. You could see the fjords and dozens of lights on yachts and bouquets of lights on larger ships. I couldn't stop looking at it when I first saw it, two years earlier. So we went there one day. I had to try and convince her for a week, because it's stupid to go somewhere at night... But we finally did. I showed her all these wonders, and you know what she did? She said it was really beautiful, and that it was very cold, and that we couldn't go back. She said it all in one breath.

Do you understand? That's what it means to me to look at two different sides.

I resent her a lot for that. Although I know it's not her fault. She's just the way she is. And I don't think she's any worse for it. We're just completely different.

I also know that this resentment towards her is a bit of resentment towards myself." It's about how I feel helpless now and don't know what to do. Everything about her annoys me...

The swan had devoured the entire loaf of bread and was now fiddling with its beak in the feathers under its wing.

"And then I met Alice... It was about a year ago. A friend was leaving for the Netherlands for two years and had a farewell party. He invited a lot of friends. I felt a bit out of place because I only knew a few people. My wife stayed home because our daughter was sick. I wanted to stay home too, but she insisted I go, so I did, though halfheartedly.

It was around the end of November. It was already damn cold, even though the first snow hadn't fallen yet. We sat in a large group and talked about all sorts of nonsense. Someone mentioned Christmas. Everyone took turns talking about how they wanted to spend Christmas Eve and the holidays. Just gibberish about carols, Christmas food, and a family atmosphere. I hated the holidays. I always tried to just wait it out... My wife remained her parents' little girl, and we spent Christmas with them. I hated it. The first Christmas after our wedding, I wanted it to be wonderful. I dreamed of staying home. We'd have dinner, drink wine, make love, and talk until dawn. My wife took this as some kind of sick approach to the holidays, after all, Christmas is a family holiday... She meant her family, not me...

I was thinking, and then Alicja spoke up. I hadn't paid attention to her before. Only when she spoke. She had a warm, soft voice and the warm gaze of gray-blue eyes. She brushed aside a stray lock of dark, almost black hair and said:

"I'd like to spend Christmas with someone who loves me. I'd like to go somewhere. Maybe a mountain cabin with a fireplace. We'd drink wine, tell each other nonsense, make love, or just sit and enjoy being together. But that's not so important, the cabin and the wine. The most important thing is to spend it with someone who loves me..."

She lowered her eyes, as if embarrassed by what she said. People looked at her with pity, as if she were a harmless weirdo.

Listening to this, I must have had one of my silliest expressions. I spent most of the evening looking at her surreptitiously. She was so... natural. Everything was so real, so unacted. She didn't care that others looked at her strangely. She was amazing.

Then we started talking. About literature, cinema, music. Then about raising children, women, women and men, about what it was like when we were children, what we wanted to be then, and what we were afraid of. We told each other a little about ourselves. She was divorced. She worked as a Spanish teacher and wrote film reviews for one magazine and essays about life for another. When she found out I was married, she seemed to tense up and started to distance herself from me. I told her about my daughter—how wonderful she was and how much I loved her. We talked a little longer.

I drove her home. We said hello. She walked away a short distance. She turned around. She walked to the car. I rolled down the window, and she hesitated for a moment and said,

"You know, if I were your wife, I wouldn't appreciate you telling a woman you just met that you love your daughter very much... but you don't say you love your wife... It sounded like you didn't love her... hang in there. It was nice to talk to someone... normal. That's rare.

And she left...

Yeah, I wouldn't like it either if I were my wife, I thought as I watched her walk away.

We'd met by chance a few times. We had mutual friends. We'd talked a few times. I felt great in her company a few times. And several times I had the impression that she was perfectly at home with me. She never let anything happen that could bring us closer. However, I felt a great sense of guilt every time I saw her. I think I was already in love with her then. I felt embarrassed towards my wife. It seemed like nothing had ever happened, but I felt good with another woman... but not with her. In reality, my marriage had fallen apart long before that. But I had a wonderful little daughter, and it hadn't really occurred to me to leave my wife. Not yet. It was simply: things are fine as they are.

The swan waddled around and glared at me. When I stopped telling my story, it squawked loudly. I thought to myself that he probably wanted me to continue. I pondered what was happening to me...

... Do you know how I feel, man? It's like I'm holding five struggling Rottweillers on five leashes. Do you know what a Rottweiller looks like? It's such a huge beast, sixty kilos of muscle. So they're struggling and thrashing in all directions. I know I have to wait it out and hold them, hold on longer than they do. But at the same time, I love them very much and I kind of wish they could break free. I'm holding them with a lump in my throat.

And they're struggling in all directions, trying to break free.

If I hold on long enough, they'll lie down and whimper softly. And then they'll just look at me sadly...

I just have to wait it out.

I watched the swan, which was slowly wading towards the sea. After all, what could keep it with me? The bread had long since run out. I looked up. Dark clouds had gathered, and it got even colder. I zipped my jacket up to my neck and shuffled slowly towards the car.One day we met to say goodbye. We felt that what was between us had gone too far. We sat next to each other for about half an hour, each lost in our own thoughts, and we had no idea what to say. And then we just hugged each other. We sat there hugging and still didn't say anything. I was filled with tenderness, and with that tenderness, I wanted to gently wrap her in my arms. So that it wouldn't be as difficult for her as it was for me. We wanted to do something about it. About the awkward silence, about the whole situation. I stroked her hair and didn't say anything because I had no idea what to say. Everything that came to mind seemed so stupid or out of place. I just sat there, hugging Alicja, and I wanted it to last as long as possible.

"You are absolutely untouchable to me... Go away... And please, don't ask me anything. Just go."

We looked into each other's eyes and... we started kissing. Gently at first, then more and more passionately. We kissed and talked, and the conversation went something like this:

"We definitely wouldn't be happy together.

" "Of course not. We'd argue constantly.

A few kisses.

" "We couldn't stand each other.

" "I have a lot of nasty habits.

" "That's nothing compared to my cruelly nasty habits, of which I have thousands."

It went on and on. Eventually, somehow

, we broke up so quickly. "Please don't call me. Please..." she said.

I went. It was freezing cold and snowing. I walked home. I decided it would do me good to get really cold. I walked and threw snowballs at the lampposts along the way. I didn't stop until I hit each one. Only then would I move on to the next one. It took me about four hours to get home, but I still felt like I hadn't gotten cold enough.

I woke up in the morning and she wasn't there. And yet she had been there just a moment ago...

That day I couldn't concentrate. Everything was slipping away. I forgot everything. I didn't understand what the people I was talking to were saying.

I skipped work and went to the seaside. I walked along the beach. And the weather was just like the day I'd talked to the swan. I remembered the swan and the poem I'd written in the sand. There was no swan anywhere in sight, but I could write a poem. I looked around for a suitable stick and wrote the poem again in the sand along the seashore. Once again, the waves licked the letters. Once again, the poem was about a hundred meters long. Once again, I wrote it on my hand. And the poem was this:

I managed to crawl through a sleepless night

Three hundred years old

At least

thousands of reminders

Echoes of words spoken

carelessly

I can't shake something...

In a cage woven from your scent

Which will remain within me

For the next three thousand years

Cuddles

Listening

Passionate gentleness

The second after we parted I already missed you so much

And I miss you more and more

With every breath

I love the softness of your lips

Found in the dark

And the glow of your eyes

Looking at me with love

That was over three months ago. A lot has changed in my life since then...

[...]

I knew exactly what I would do. I would drive to Alice's house. I would turn off the lights and look at her windows for a moment. I would smile, recall a few of her words, a few of her behaviors... And then I would call her (I bought a cell phone a few days ago to take care of a few things). I would ask if she was alone and if she had a moment for me. I would tell her how much I missed her. Then I would ask her to get dressed and go outside. And I'll hang up... Curious, she'll go to the window, and then I'll flash my lights at her. She'll come over to my place, and I'll take her for a drive and... I'll ask her to come with me.

That's how I imagined it. I didn't think about what would happen next. I'll just wrap her in my tenderness, and everything will work out... great. We'll go away together for a few days. I'll tell her silly stories and throw her all sorts of little surprises. Just so...

I've just pulled up to her house. I've turned off the engine and the lights. I'm sitting here, staring at her window. She has a small lamp on. The one with the orange shade. The warm orange light scatters across the closed curtains. Also orange. Her entire window is a warm orange amidst the surrounding darkness. I see a shadow crossing the room. I imagine her walking, swaying her hips slightly, brushing back stray strands of hair with a characteristic, impatient movement. I see her shadow. She approached the window. The shadow became sharp. I see her profile. She sat on the desk and propped herself up with her hands behind her back. I picked up the phone and punched in her number. It appeared on the screen. I smiled and was about to press the dial button when... I saw a second shadow.

The second shadow slowly crossed the room and stood in front of her shadow. Then it slowly approached and kissed her shadow gently. And then the shadows embraced and began to hug and kiss.

I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under my feet... I felt dizzy and started thinking more slowly, as if I were swimming in thick syrup.

"Fuck," I whispered. I looked at the phone I still held in my hand and threw it angrily. I watched it fly (as if it were in thick syrup) and then shatter on the asphalt (as if it were the bottom of an ocean covered in thick syrup).

"Well, what exactly did you expect, you stupid jerk?!," I whispered. "She never promised you anything..."

I smiled to myself (hysterical smile), "You have a new car, you're free, all your asses...

" "I love her so much," whispered a part of me.

"Relax, let's go for a little walk," another part stated confidently and firmly.

"I love her so much," whispered the first part.

"What's this, you're speechless, maybe you should think of something else." The second part treated the first part with pity.

"So much...

" "Shut up!"

I started the engine, spun the steering wheel, and screeched forward. I took the next bend with a squeal.

"She's handling it quite well," I thought of the Toyota. I slowed down and drove mindlessly.

"She's so much..."

I realized I was heading towards the airport road. It was a side road. It led through the forest and was very winding. The corners weren't particularly dangerous, but the fast driving was a lot of fun. "The Porsche Road," that's what my buddies and I called it. In a good car, you could go really fast. It was fun to take corners, feeling the tires lose grip slightly, and pull the car out of a slight skid. At that time, the road was completely empty. I turned on all the lights and pressed the gas pedal harder. In a car like this, you could safely take a corner at 80 km/h. So I was doing about 110 km/h. Before the corner, I took my foot off the gas and let it slow down to 100 km/h. On the corner, I gave it gas and pulled it out of the corner at the limit of its grip. I drove like that for a while, constantly accelerating gently. I took each subsequent straight a little faster. On longer stretches of straightaway, I accelerated to 150 km/h, braking only gently before corners. It was the most primal pleasure. I felt immense power, and I felt I was in control. I was in control, putting all my instincts and skill into it. It was a kind of control bordering on absolute mastery. One mistake, and that power could spiral out of control. Wonderful...TWO DAYS LATER...

The doctor was a small, plump man with a kindly gaze. Tufts of completely white, closely cropped hair grew haphazardly over his bald head. He looked at least 150 years old. He resembled a very old tortoise that had lived for centuries and had learned its lesson. He watched Alice silently. In his gaze, besides the kindness radiating from his entire person, one could see curiosity and a hint of concern.

"You wanted to talk to me." Alice looked very nervous. Her eyes were red from crying. She clenched her fists tightly, pressing them into her knees.

"Would you like a glass of cognac? It would do you good...

" Alice nodded. "Please.

" "You know, I've had a bottle hidden here for as long as I can remember. It comes in handy sometimes." The old doctor looked at Alice sympathetically. She drank the entire contents of the glass quickly, like medicine, and now swirled it in her hands.

"Doctor, will he make it?" She hesitated for a moment on the word "make it."

"I'll tell you honestly." The doctor's voice was as kind as his entire demeanor. "Yesterday, I wouldn't have given him any chance. His condition is critical. He has a fractured skull and numerous internal injuries. He's lost a lot of blood. He shouldn't actually be alive. But he's been alive for two days. It's as if he's clinging to life. He reacts like a wild animal. Forgive me for the comparison. But that's exactly how it is. A wild animal that doesn't give up completely. I think to myself that he's alive because he wants to live. Although in his condition, that seems impossible."

"Who is he to you?" The old doctor stared at Alice with a mixture of sympathy and concern. Alice fell into thought for a moment. She stared off into the distance.

"Actually, no one... maybe... we were friends. I was in love with him. You see, it's such a strange story." Alice looked away, unconsciously cracking her fingers and playing with her ring.

"I only got back this morning. My friend and her boyfriend were staying with me for two weeks. I went to my parents'. I haven't been there for over six months. I left the keys with my friend so she could stay with me for that time...

She knew I was in love with him. I tried not to let it show because I didn't want to break up his marriage. I told her a lot about him. She knew he liked off-road vehicles. Just like me."

Alice fell into thought again for a long moment.

"She told me this strange thing today. It's probably a coincidence... Two nights ago, in the evening... they kissed." You know, my friend and her boyfriend. And she heard the screeching of tires. Someone sped off. She looked out the window and saw a large cherry-red SUV speeding away. And then she thought about what I'd told her. He wanted an off-road vehicle. It suited him. He had this... adventurous spirit, he was such a big boy. And then I found out he'd crashed. And then, at the hospital, I learned he'd been driving an off-road vehicle. It was a Toyota 4Runner... You know, he always wanted a Jeep Grand Cherokee. He showed it to me in a catalog... He had lots of different car catalogs...

[...]

He said they were very safe cars. They had four-wheel drive and everything...

"You see, he took a corner fast. He should have been able to handle it, but there was a large oil spill on the corner from the car he'd crashed half an hour earlier. They'd already removed the car, but the oil was... he couldn't have known that. These cars are actually safe. He was just unlucky."

"Doctor, you called me. How did you know? I mean

, why did you call me?" "I found out you were supposed to go away together.

" "Go away? We haven't seen each other for three months. He's married and has a little daughter..."

The old doctor stared thoughtfully out the window.

"So this whole story is more complex than I thought. You know, the police found ferry tickets to Sweden in the glove compartment of the car. For this morning... Two people and a car... One of the tickets had your name on it...

And he's not married... He's been divorced for five weeks..."

The old doctor looked at Alicja with sad, penetrating eyes.

"Go to him. If you love him, go to him. Sit with him and talk to him. I don't know if he can hear you. But try. Maybe he's still alive... just for you..."